Stroke of Love

by Melissa Foster

  “Cabin one, Ray.” It was clearly a command.

  His tattooed arms were solid muscle and so well defined that she had the urge to let her fingers travel their hard ridges. He was built for power, a protector, or…No. She wasn’t going there. She’d seen too many temporary romances during these assignments to allow herself to be drawn in only to be forgotten after the guy went back home.

  Clayton walked away with a swagger, turning back once and tilting his hat at Kate.

  She groaned.

  “Listen, I’m really sorry for the way I looked at you on the bus.”

  The command in Sage’s voice was gone, replaced with sweet richness, as smooth as melted butter. Kate felt her cheeks flush. Damn it. What is wrong with me? She lowered her eyes, steeling herself against the warmth that had found her belly and was slowly traveling lower. She dared a glance at his handsome face. He had a strong chin, and his eyes hovered somewhere between gunmetal blue and indigo. Shit. Really? At least he wasn’t perfectly manicured like the others. His eyebrows were a little bushy, a peppering of whiskers covered his cheeks, and his clothes looked like they came right off the rack at anyplace but a high-end store. Unfortunately, that only made him more appealing.

  Focus.

  Kate drew in a deep breath and ran her finger down her clipboard. Now she was stuck trying to figure out if he was just playing her—standing up to Clayton and apologizing like he was her savior—or if he was really a nice guy. She decided to ignore the conundrum altogether and focus on her job instead. Focusing on her job didn’t require evaluating the motives of celebrities. Her job was safe.

  “Remington. Let’s see…You’re in cabin three.” She pointed to a small cabin at the end of the complex.

  He nodded silently and walked away with a dejected look on his way-too-handsome face.

  Luce stood on the steps of the bus with her arms crossed. “Well, look at you, staring after him like he’s a piece of meat. Maybe I’ll start calling you Clayton.” She stepped from the bus. This was Luce’s third trip to Belize. Kate couldn’t keep track of all of the celebs she handled PR for, but she was always glad to see her friend.

  Kate realized she was not only staring at Sage as he walked away, but more specifically, staring at his perfect ass. She spun around. “What? Just making sure he figured out which cabin was his. They all look the same.” No. They sure as hell don’t all look the same. And she wasn’t thinking about the cabins.

  “Uh-huh. You stickin’ with that story?” Luce’s blond hair was clipped at the base of her neck in a low ponytail, and she reeked of bug spray. Luce was always prepared. It was one of the things Kate admired most about her.

  Kate smacked Luce’s arm with the clipboard. “Why didn’t you warn me about those women? You said they were a little highbrow; that’s different from—”

  “No. No, no, no.” Penelope traipsed across the yard, waving her arms and lifting her legs high to avoid the thick grass and the flourish of dust that clung to her legs. “Luce, there is no way I’m staying in that bug-infested sauna.” She crossed her lanky arms, rolled her eyes, and huffed a sigh.

  Luce glanced at Kate and lifted her palms to the sky. “Sorry, Pen. This is what we’ve got. It’s only two weeks, and—”

  “Did you see the screened-in sleeping area?” Kate mustered a peppy voice even though what she really wanted to say was, The cabins are fine. There are people who have real needs and you’re here to help them. Suck it up and let’s get going. “The screen will allow the air in and it’ll keep you cooler at night,” Kate suggested. “There’s a nice shower and bathroom that’s all yours. I know it’s not what you’re used to, but remember, this was once a mahogany logging camp, so think of it like you’re reliving a time in history.”

  “And that’s supposed to make me feel better? The bathroom is awful.” Penelope let out a loud breath.

  Luce put her arm around Penelope and guided her back to the cabin, saying something Kate couldn’t hear. Kate checked her watch. In another twenty minutes she’d hold orientation and then hand out the assignments. She’d been looking forward to working with Sage the most. She loved his artwork and she knew how much the children loved art as well, but whatever the hell was going on in her lady parts when he was around had her on high alert. She’d have to build a little higher fence than she was used to.

  Who was she kidding? She needed ten feet of barbed wire—to keep herself in.

  Chapter Two

  SAGE GRABBED A bottle of water from the mini refrigerator in his cozy cabin, which couldn’t be more than two hundred square feet including the bathroom and the screened-in sleeping porch. Despite the low ceiling, it was perfect.

  He applied bug repellant and left the heavy wooden door open when he went to find the others, leaving just the screen door to keep the bugs out. Coming from the forest, there was a loud sound that resembled a dentist’s drill or an electric saw of some sort—high-pitched and constant, and he wondered what it was. He stopped to listen to birds squawking and chirping, the drilling sound, and varying pitches of other indistinguishable jungle sounds. Can’t get that in the Big Apple.

  Each cabin was similar to the next, constructed of wood and concrete with thickly thatched roofs. He took a moment to breathe deeply before finding the path Kate had spoken of. His body had already begun to adjust to the humidity. Back in New York his days were consumed with deadlines, moving as fast as he was able from one thing to the next. Even buying groceries was a lesson in efficiency and crowd maneuverability. He went to bed thinking of his next project, the next gallery opening, the next article he had to prepare for, and he woke up feeling like none of it mattered but not knowing how to break from the life he’d created. It had been way too long since he’d had any time to enjoy being outdoors with nothing but grass and trees as far as the eye could see.

  He walked down the narrow path, bordered by fronds and foliage so shiny and brightly colored that they could have been fake. Giant green leaves arced over the path, and smaller stalks and bushes pressed into it. Sage moved them carefully aside, making his way through to the clearing.

  Kate stood before the others with her clipboard and a large bottle of water, looking comfortable in her AIA V-neck T-shirt and sneakers, but in her eyes Sage saw a shadow of stress. Penelope and Cassidy had changed into tank tops and shorts, and Clayton wore the same T-shirt and jeans he’d had on earlier. Hot was all Sage could think, and not the sexy kind. Jeans, jungles, and humidity didn’t make for a comfortable afternoon. Sage had never given much thought to the clothes he wore, choosing comfort over style. Watching Clayton squirm uncomfortably in his thick jeans and Penelope and Cassidy making futile attempts to brush the dirt from their designer shorts, he was glad he’d never drank the haute couture Kool-Aid that was common among people of his economic status.

  Kate lifted her chin in his direction. “I was just telling the group what you can expect while you’re here. First and foremost, keep the bug repellant handy. We left some in your cabins. After you get your assignments, you’ll have a brief meeting with your mentor, and then you can enjoy the town, relax, or grab some food in the mess hall.” Kate pointed to a building similar in style to the cabins at the far end of the clearing. “We offer three meals each day, but many of our celebrity guests like to eat at one of the cafés in town. The town is right down that road.” She pointed behind her to a stretch of road defined by two dirt ruts with a grassy mound in the center. “The town’s quite small but friendly. Besides two small cafés, you’ll find an Internet café for those of you who need to be tied to the outside world, and there’s a local watering hole, fresh-fruit stand, and other basics. I wouldn’t advise drinking too much alcohol in this heat. You can dehydrate fast.” Kate pointed to the surrounding jungle. “The jungle is…well, it’s a jungle. It can be dangerous and it’s easy to lose your way, so I urge you not to venture out alone.”

  “Should we worry about being stalked by a jaguar or something out here?” Sage asked.

&
nbsp; “You have a better chance of seeing a peccary or maybe a tapir,” Kate answered without glancing his way. “Oh, and most of the residents speak English when they’re talking with us, but you’ll notice that they speak Belizean Creole when they speak among themselves. Creole is similar to English. Some people say it sounds like an island or a Jamaican accent. They tend to speak very fast when speaking Creole, and though the words are similar to ours, the meanings are not always the same.”

  From his seat on the wooden bench, Sage listened to Kate and cataloged her features. He was careful not to look into her eyes. Something in them rendered his mind almost useless, so he slid his gaze lower, hovering at the most adorable dimple in her chin. It wasn’t significantly deep, just evident enough to warrant a second glance to be sure of it. His eyes slid down her deliciously lean and feminine arms, to her slim hips and perfectly sculpted legs. Christ, she’s beautiful. Sage’s eyes traveled back up, soaking in her long, dark hair and following it to her thick bangs. He had an urge to brush them aside. As an artist he knew that the most beautiful faces needed nothing at all to camouflage them—not hair, makeup, or sunglasses. Kate had one of those faces.

  Sage realized that Kate was looking at the others as she spoke, but her eyes had yet to move in his direction. Had he seemed like that much of a heel when she’d caught him looking at her on the bus? He watched her glance at Clayton, who had practically visually devoured her on the bus. Surely he didn’t seem like more of a sleaze than Clayton.

  A bug climbed up his leg, pulling him from his thoughts. He swatted at the pest and brought his attention back to Kate as she spoke of the local culture and then went on to advise them of their assignments. She spoke confidently. Her eyes conveyed strength and surety, a don’t-mess-with-me quality that could not be misconstrued.

  “Penelope and Cassidy, you’ve been assigned to the community outreach division. Clayton, you’re in the elderly outreach project.”

  “I thought I was here to sing a little, mingle a little. You know,” Clayton said as he wiped his face with his arm.

  “You can sing and mingle all you want. The idea is that you spend time getting to know the people of Punta Palacia. Music therapy is a good thing for the elderly. I think you’ll enjoy your post. Okay, you three will be meeting with Caleb Forman, who will walk you through the duties and expectations of your jobs while you’re here.”

  A tall, thin, twentysomething guy with stringy brown hair and skin far too pale for living in Belize came to Kate’s side out of nowhere. Sage realized he must have been standing nearby the whole time, but he’d been so wrapped up in Kate that he hadn’t noticed.

  “Sage, you’ll be working with the local kids on art mentoring.”

  Sage ran a hand through his sweaty hair, slicking it away from his face. “Will I be working with a teacher? In a school? How does this work?”

  For a moment Kate didn’t respond. Her eyes slipped his way for a breath, then dropped to her clipboard. She sighed. “You’ll be working with me, at the school.”

  Unable to determine if that was an aw, shit sigh or a mildly interested sigh, Sage nodded and tried to quell the stirrings in his stomach. Great. This is all I need. To follow around a beautiful woman he could not read. The beautiful part was great, but the inability to read her spelled trouble.

  Sage watched the others follow Caleb toward town. Kate was flipping through her clipboard as he approached.

  “Why don’t you use the calendar on your phone for your schedules?” He nodded at the clipboard, but she never saw it. Her eyes remained trained on her clipboard.

  “I need visual stimuli. I tried a smartphone, but I kept forgetting things.”

  Visual stimuli. Damn, you’re about the best visual stimuli I’ve ever seen. The intensity of his attraction to her was vastly different from how he normally reacted to women. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d thought about a woman so much after knowing her for such a short period of time.

  “So, it’s you and me,” he said easily, noticing that up close she was even more petite than she first appeared.

  “And about thirty kids.” She brushed her hair from her shoulder and finally lifted her eyes to his.

  And sucked him right in.

  Christ.

  Sage cleared his throat, trying to ignore the searing heat that had just gripped him below the waist. “Thirty kids. Great.”

  “We focus more on education and literacy than art. You know, give them as much of the important stuff as we can before we lose them.”

  “Lose them?” Sage followed her toward the road.

  She nodded and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. Sage wondered what her silky hair would feel like slipping through his fingers. Then, just as quickly, he reprimanded himself for going there. He was only in Belize for two weeks, and he sure as hell didn’t need to feel like more of a heel during that time.

  “The kids don’t always make it to school or stay in school for the whole day when they do show up. Some are needed at home to help with cooking and other chores, or they work with their fathers in the fields. Even the younger kids have to work for their families to survive. They’re up before dawn hauling water from the river and gathering sticks for fires so the women can cook.”

  She ran her eyes over his face, sending another shudder through him, which he hoped to hell he was able to mask.

  “It’s nothing like you’re used to. These families are lucky to have enough food and water to survive.” She upped her pace as they turned down another dirt road, and a long concrete building came into view.

  Sage was surprised at her sharp response. “I know things are very different here, Kate. That’s why I volunteered, to learn about the culture and try to help as much as I can.” He kept his eyes trained on the one-story building, feeling the ping-ponging of her eyes as they bounced from him to the building and back.

  She let out a loud, dismissive sigh.

  Sage stopped walking. “What is that sigh supposed to mean?”

  She didn’t slow her stride or glance in his direction. With her eyes locked on the building, she continued walking at a fast clip.

  He caught up to her, annoyed with her attitude. “Look, I don’t know why you’re treating me like this, or who you think I am, but…”

  “I know who you are. You’re an incredibly talented artist, and we’re lucky to have you here to help us.” Her tone was friendly, but her determined steps spoke of suppressed frustration.

  “Actually,” Sage began, “I think I’m the lucky one.”

  They walked in silence for another minute as they neared the building, and Sage was surprised to realize that the noises that he’d stopped to listen to outside his cabin were present everywhere.

  “What’s that drilling noise?” he asked.

  “Cicadas. You’ll hear howler monkeys, cicadas, birds, all sorts of animal noises during the day; then at night the amphibians come out. You’ll get used to it.”

  She reached for the door of the school, but Sage beat her to it and held the heavy wooden door open for her. Kate hesitated, giving him a long, hard stare. Then she walked inside. The air in the small classroom was heavier than outdoors. Three lines of neatly aligned desks filled the small room, and colorful pictures hung on the walls. A dark-skinned man walked into the room, and Kate’s face lit up.

  “Oscar. What are you still doing here?”

  “Just doing a final sweep up for tomorrow. Might be rain on the way.” He spoke kindly with a thick Creole accent and nodded at Sage.

  Sage felt Kate’s eyes on him, and he knew she was watching to see if he was having difficulty understanding Oscar. He smiled in her direction to let her know he was fine.

  “This is Sage Remington. He’s an artist from the States, here to work with the kids for a couple of weeks.” Kate turned to Sage. “Sage, this is Oscar. He’s our savior for all things that need fixing.”

  Sage shook his hand and sized him up. Strong handshake, late twenties or early th
irties, friendly smile. “Nice to meet you, Oscar.”

  “You too.” His bright white smile reached his eyes. “I’ve just finished. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “Yes. We’ll be here.” Kate waited until he left, then continued. “This is one of our classrooms. We have three. We divide the kids up by age: elementary school, middle school, and high school.” She spoke in a short, clipped tone. “Some days we have only a few students in each class, and other times we have full classrooms.”

  Irritation gnawed on Sage’s nerves. He wasn’t used to being treated as though he were anything other than a nice guy. Kate was definitely treating him as though she needed to be wary of him. He also wasn’t used to feeling a rush of heat from nothing more than a woman glancing his way, regardless of how unfriendly she was.

  KATE WALKED OUT of the classroom at a quick pace. She had to get away from the electricity that radiated from that fine specimen of a man. Shit. She’d made it two years without falling into the arms of any of the men who were just passing through, and now, just weeks away from leaving, her hormones decided to wake up? What was up with that? His tattoos gave him a bad-boy quality that she normally stayed far away from, but she found them way too tempting on him. It was his eyes, though—Jesus, those gorgeous, contemplative eyes—that had nearly knocked the wind from her lungs when he’d confronted her. Then, when he’d said he was the lucky one to be there, the sincerity in his eyes and his voice had thrown her for a loop. Kate was used to actors who could feign just about anything, from being in the throes of passion to sadness, but an artist? Would he be adept at such manipulations? And the way his voice cracked a little when he’d asked what her sigh meant? No way he faked that. She’d have to cinch that barbed-wire fence a little tighter, because the last thing she needed was to fawn over some guy who would soon be gone. She was too smart to be left pining after what might have been. Nope. I am not going there. She’d just have to ignore the masculine, earthy smell that radiated from him, the midnight-blue eyes, and the sexiest smile she’d ever seen.